


A Wondrous Woven Magic

by roseandheather



Category: Code Black (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Team Cowboy, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-14 07:18:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9167923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseandheather/pseuds/roseandheather
Summary: Five of Leanne's friendships which were precisely that, and one which very, very much was not.(Or: Five men Leanne found herself loving, and the one she found herself in love with.)





	1. Neal Hudson

Losing Neal is easier than she thought it would be.

Not because she doesn't miss him at her side; she does, keenly. All these years he's been there, unfailing and unswerving, her dear friend and her devil's advocate. And losing that - turning to ask his opinion, and realizing she'll never have him beside her again, at least for the foreseeable future - hurts just as much as she thought it would.

But her greatest fear - that losing him at work meant losing him for good - proves to be completely unfounded.

He flatly refuses to lose touch with her. Once a month at least, more when he can, she picks up her phone and grins when she sees his name flash on the screen. Through these regular phone calls she learns all about the progress of his fellowship in trauma surgery (amazing how quickly he progresses without Campbell looming over his shoulder, he snarks), about how Christa is taking to her pediatrics residency (like a duck to water, Neal says proudly), how much he misses her but how glad he is that he made the move.

In return she passes on news of Christa's former fellows through Neal (the woman herself is too busy even to sleep, though at least there are sporadic texts), rants about Campbell joining Trauma One, and dishes about the new trauma surgeon fresh from Afghanistan (Neal seethes in jealousy for a full twenty-four hours and then bribes her to take the three of them out for coffee). 

One day, about eighteen months after he leaves, he calls her with panic in his voice, and it takes Leanne a full five minutes to get to the root of the problem.

"Neal, she's going to say yes."

"But- "

"Shut up."

Silence.

"She's in love with you, you idiot! It's a little bit obscene how much. So just ask her already!"

He calls her three weeks later, whooping with joy down the line, and Leanne laughs with him as she looks out over the L.A. skyline.

"Told you so."

"Shut it."

"Hey, kiddo," Leanne says at last, just before he hangs up.

"Yeah?"

"Love you."

She doesn't need to see his grin; she can hear it. "You, too."

"Good. Now get lost."

"Getting!" he says, the word half laugh, and ends the call.

Sinking back against the edge of the roof, eyes on the sunset bleeding over the horizon, she smiles.


	2. Ethan Willis

Ethan is, in the most literal sense of the word, heaven-sent.

Happy though she is for Neal and Christa, working without her longtime sidekick - fine,  _colleague -_ has left an uncomfortable itch under her skin. She feels  _lonely;_ an absurd notion when she has Jesse and Rollie beside her, of course, but she feels it nonetheless. She needs a partner-in-crime, and she doesn't have one.

Until  _he_ shows up.

He's as bruised, battered, and wary as she is, aching and heartsore in a way she remembers all too well; but from the moment they meet, she feels something  _click._ As the weeks go on they settle into each other so well it feels like a dream; a glance across the room, the twitch of an eyebrow or a slight smile, is all they need to say volumes. She'd never thought she could trust this quickly, this  _easily;_ thought she'd have to wait years to develop the kind of instinctive rapport she'd shared with Neal. But as it turns out, Ethan Willis is the exception to every rule.

She's not usually the one asking "What do we do?" - usually, she's  _being_ asked it. But now she can turn to him for answers; now she can follow, instead of lead.

And it is such a blessed  _relief._

 _Comrades in arms,_ she thinks sometimes, and has to smile.

She's not one to listen to hospital gossip, but it doesn't take long for her to hear the new nickname making the rounds: 'Team Cowboy', the staff whisper, hushed and reverent as they pass.

"Rumor has it you're into me," he says casually one day, and waggles his eyebrows.

She nearly snorts beer out her nose. "Rumor is on drugs," she says tartly. "We're far too much alike for any of  _that_ nonsense."

"Too right," he says easily, and clinks his beer bottle against hers. "Love's a funny thing, though," he adds, a bit more seriously. "Comes in all sorts of guises."

If Leanne didn't know him as well as she did, the look in his eyes would be unreadable. But she  _does_ know him; knows how difficult he finds emotions, messy and unpredictable as they are.

And knows, too, that it doesn't mean he feels them any less deeply.

 _Love you, Leanne,_ his eyes say.

"Too right," she returns at last, and hopes he sees the answer in her eyes.

When he smiles at her, bright and brilliant and _real_ , she knows he does.


	3. Mike Leighton

Losing Mike is a bittersweet relief.

Relief, because the title of ER Director had never sat easily on her shoulders, no matter what Ed Harbert might say; she far prefers managing her residents, tempering their steel in fire to see how sharp she can hone the edge. Taking back that job feels like a joint slotting back into place, and she breathes a little easier every single day.

Bitter, because he is a damned talented doctor and, as she knows all too well, he also has the true teacher's gift. The idea that he might never practice medicine again nearly makes her sick; though she's glad to be back in her old position, she hadn't realized just how deeply she had counted on Mike eventually succeeding her one day until the ugly possibility that he might never be  _able_ to was forced in front of her eyes. 

She's loved working with him almost as much as she's loved working with Neal (inseparable, those two, she thinks wryly, both in her heart and in their lives), and no matter how glad she is to be back where she feels she belongs, losing the successor she's always counted on  _hurts._

She has tears in her eyes when she hugs him goodbye. He promises to keep in touch, but she knows it's a lie; knows he's going to go to ground, is going to work through things until he has a definitive answer about his future, one way or another.

She can't say she blames him.

Long, aching months later, when he turns up in her ER with an Angels jacket and cocky grin, she has to physically restrain herself from whooping with joy.

He fits back in like he's never been away, and when she catches him watching her direct the residents with a wistful, heartfelt smile on his face, she can't help but smile back.

"It'll be yours again one day," she promises him quietly, and when he swoops her up in a bear hug, she doesn't bother fight it.


	4. Will Campbell

Will Campbell is a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma.

She doesn't hate him. She never did, even when he was at his worst, even when he was breaking Neal's heart, even when he was deriding her and everything she stood for.

But that doesn't mean she  _liked_ the man. She'd been fully prepared to write him off as another arrogant surgeon, too full of his own brilliance to appreciate her or her people or the work they did.

She's wrong.

Will Campbell is a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma, but she thinks she's started to figure him out.

He's all hard head and soft heart, and far too much like her to make her happy about it. She is ice hiding fire and he is steel hiding velvet, but in the end, they're both just  _hiding._

Now, though, he's sitting at the end of her hospital bed, a smile on his face that's shocking in its genuineness, and she almost wants to cry with it.

So many memories of the past nightmarish days rush through her when she looks at him: his anguished face behind the plastic as Heather ( _oh, God, poor Heather, **why**_ **-** ) dies under their helpless hands; his tireless fingers working and working and working; the fear he tried so hard to hide, but can't quite banish from his eyes; the urgency in his voice as he calls for help,  _now,_ because  _his people_ aren't going to die on his watch.

 _I think,_ she thinks wryly, remembering a heated discussion on the administrative floor oh those many months ago,  _I might owe Ed an apology. And I think we both owe Will a drink._

Ethan is there, his eyes soft and warm; and Jesse, dear Jesse, her family by heart if not by blood - but somehow, right now, she only has eyes for Will.

"Will," she says hoarsely, at last, and his eyes - big, brown,  _exhausted_ \- meet hers. " _Thank you._ "

He blinks, once, then twice. "Well," he says after a long moment, and his voice cracks just a little. "I couldn't let you just  _die_ on me. You'd escape my reading you the riot act for all time."

She laughs, cracked and brittle, but  _real_ , and he shakes his head sharply, his eyes abruptly serious. "Don't you _ever_ scare me like that again," he says hoarsely, and awkwardly reaches out to pat her hand. "Or I will kill you myself."

"I live but to serve," she says, because if she doesn't make a joke she'll cry.

He snorts in derision and stands up to leave, but then he turns to look at her from the doorway, one last time. "I'm glad you're back," he says roughly, and his jaw twitches.

"I'm glad to be back," she answers, soft and sincere, and just for a moment, she sees Will's heart in his eyes.

He nods and walks away, blinking rapidly, and she closes her eyes.

Will Campbell is a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma, but she thinks, maybe, she's starting to figure him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You bet Ethan's magnificent arse there is gonna be post-"Fallen Angels" fic. In the meanwhile, have more of this.


End file.
